A Horse of A Different Color
by winterhorses
Summary: Bella is the new arrival in town, and having an infamously lewd mare isn't helping her gain any friends. Maybe a quiet young horse whisperer can tame the beast and teach the girl how to love herself, even when she doesn't fit in with the herd.
1. Chapter 1

"Come on, Rose, don't do this to me!" I pleaded under my breath. Groveling was the first thing that came to mind.

"Why do you have to be such a hussy? Doing it at home is one thing, but _please_, not in front of all these people! I just moved here. I have no friends. Can't you take a little pity on me?"

The only sign that she heard was a swish of her long, silken tresses as she slowed the pace even further. So much for appealing to her sense of humanity.

"Fine. We'll do this the hard way." I kicked my leg at her. Another kick.

Nothing. Not even a twitch. It was time to move on to threats of bodily harm.

"I swear to god, if you stop and do your _thing_ in front of you-know-who, I will beat you when we get home. You will have marks. Hideous scars. I'll break your stupid legs."

Obviously I wouldn't, and she knew of my penchant for hyperbole. Plus, I was way too nice, and she had my number. On the rare occasion that I felt brave enough to correct her, it was always me who ended up hurting. And sometimes bruised.

I could feel it coming. She was getting ready, and of course the wench would pick the worst moment for the debacle. _He_ was closing the distance and soon would be directly behind us. I erupted into full-fledged panic mode. I kicked and slapped, but she treated me as if I were no more than a pesky fly.

He was just about to move around us when she stopped dead in her tracks, spread her long legs, and stuck her fat rear end in his friend's face. With her mouth gaping open and upper lip curled, the harlot moaned and grunted. Then her voluptuous rump squirted a stream of clear liquid onto Emmett's legs.

Oh. My. God.

Even though I had worried about exposing Rose and her salacious tendencies to the general public, I had never imagined it would be this bad. I covered my face in abject humiliation as the onlookers laughed and pointed. But I didn't care as much about them as I did about the angel behind me, and there was no way I could stand to see the horrified expression that must be on Edward Cullen's perfectly gorgeous face.

Two things were now official.

1. This was the most embarrassing moment of my life.

2. I had a raging slut-bag for a horse.

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**Testing the waters to see if there's any interest for me to continue. I'm excited to try something a little lighter than Onscreen Chemistry. **

**The mare in this chapter is based on my first horse who did indeed pull a stunt like that on me. Sadly, there was no Edward Cullen behind us, so the incident had no redeeming qualities whatsoever. I did love that perpetually-PMSing girl, though, and my heart broke into pieces when she died. You never forget your first.**

**ps-I love and respect animals. This story will _touch_ upon some training practices that I find distasteful, and my writing will reflect that. YMMV. **


	2. Chapter 2

**Thanks for the amazing response! As such, onward we go...**

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"Rise and shine, Pickle Pea! There's a beautiful day out there just waiting to be discovered!"

Morning people suck.

You know what else sucks? Not letting embarrassing nicknames from one's childhood die. Yes, it was cute to call me 'Pickle Pea' when I was seven because my favorite bedtime snacks were frozen peas and pickle juice. Ten years later, it was not as amusing.

I groaned at Renee's chipper voice and burrowed under the covers.

"I'm heading out to the barn in ten minutes. If you don't come out and feed Rose, I'll bring her right here so you can personally explain why she watched her friends eat breakfast without her."

I crawled out of bed at the threat. Renee wasn't joking around; she really would allow a horse in her house just to get a laugh or prove a point. Sometimes, I couldn't believe we were related.

Groggily pulling on a sweatshirt and a pair of dirty jeans, I yawned and tried to get my bearings. I had been living with my mom for only a month, and sometimes it took me a few minutes to remember where I was.

I still hadn't gotten used to getting up at the butt-crack of dawn every morning.

The aromatic scent of hay and horse helped me wake up as I stumbled into the modest five-stall barn. Renee had just finished feeding her three horses and handed me the measuring scoop.

"Better hurry up before Rosie takes the door off."

"Hmgph blrder grr," I muttered back. Words were not necessary to convey my feelings at the moment.

Rose was working herself into a frenzy. On top of her incessant whuffles, she pawed at the stall door and rattled her feed bucket with her dainty nose. A snow white mane whipped against her golden coat as she tossed her head in impatience.

When she spied me coming with her grain, she whinnied loudly and demonstrated a perfect spin on her hind leg like the champion Quarter Horse she was. Too bad she only showed off her skills at feeding time or when she was dumping me out of the saddle.

I walked into the stall, and for a moment, I thought I saw her liquid brown eye soften toward me - the human bringer of goodness. But as soon as I poured her food into the bucket, she swung her big 'ol little head into my chest and knocked me out of the way.

"Ow!" My rear made contact with the stall floor.

"Are you on the ground again?" laughed Renee from inside the tack room.

"She knocked me over!"

Renee came into the stall and flicked her hand toward Rose's shoulder. Immediately, the mare stepped away from her food and waited for further direction.

"She doesn't respect you, Bella. Horses have a very clear hierarchy in the herd, and this girl owns you. You've got to be clear, consistent, and – most importantly – confident."

"How can I be confident around this nympho-witch? Yesterday's fiasco isn't helping the situation, either."

"One way or another, you need to overcome your fears and believe in yourself. Learning how to handle Rose is the best trial by fire I can think of. After all, that's why you're here." She swept sawdust off the seat of my jeans as she exited.

Frustrated, I stabbed at a pile of manure and then dropped it in the cart. My life had become some kind of sick nightmare in past few months. Charlie Swan, my father, had become concerned that I didn't seem to have any friends and spent all my time reading in my room during summer vacation. He feared that my introverted personality was a reflection of his hands-off approach to parenting and lack of a mother figure during my apparently turbulent teenage years.

That's why, without any regard to my feelings on the matter, he sent me away from Forks, Washington, to spend my senior year of high school living with Renee in western Maryland. His decision definitely wasn't based on exposing me to a more urban culture. The town of Smithsburg had even fewer residents than Forks, and its size barely measured over one square mile. Renee lived outside of town proper in an even more rural setting.

However, Smithsburg did have the advantage of being only 15 minutes outside of Hagerstown, which ranked as the sixth largest city in Maryland. That wasn't saying much, really, but at least it had an Outback Steakhouse and Target. Better, however, was that Washington, D.C. and Baltimore could be reached with just over an hour of driving.

Not that I had a car, of course.

At present, my only personal mode of transportation was the lovely palomino mare, Rose – the horse who was supposed to bring me out of my shell.

Ha.

Although…she did have one advantage. Rose needed exercising on a regular basis, so I donned my helmet and climbed into the heavy western saddle almost every day. Usually, I rode in the morning because I knew the chance of spotting my favorite wildlife on the trail was much higher at that time of day. And by wildlife, I meant one smoking hot fellow senior named Edward Cullen.

He and his parents lived on several acres abutting the back of Renee's ten. Their stately brick house was a large contrast to the two-bedroom rancher in which I now lived. When I first saw Dr. and Mrs. Cullen, they both were pulling out of the garage on what I assumed was their way to work. Dr. Cullen wore a collared shirt and tie, while Mrs. Cullen had on something that looked like a women's suit jacket.

Their proper attire and luxury cars (Mercedes S63 AMG and Audi S6) made it all the more surprising when I later realized the tall boy in ripped jeans and a holey white T-shirt who dripped sweat while repairing a fence board was their teenage son. His lean muscles flexed beneath the worn material as he hammered nails through the plank and into the post.

I hadn't paid much attention to the boys in Forks. I grew up with most of them, and while there were a few attractive or intelligent or nice individuals, none of them were the complete package. I had been asked out a handful of times, but I declined every invitation. It just didn't seem worth the effort to get to know someone only to find out he didn't live up to my impossible standards. Let's face it, Princess Buttercup's Westley set the bar pretty damned high.

But at the mere sight of Edward Cullen with his toned form, messy reddish-brownish-colored hair, and masculine brow furrowed adorably in concentration, I felt a flutter in my abdomen. Now, I wasn't so sexually naïve that I didn't know exactly what had happened. I got the same feeling when I'd drool over my Westley or Fitzwilliam Darcy or Jason Bourne or even Dr. Gregory House.

What? Hugh Laurie has the most gorgeous blue eyes, and I'm a sucker for British guys with perfect American accents.

The point is that I recognized the tightening feeling down low as my ovaries caught on fire and my girly parts screamed that they weren't there just to be pretty window dressing.

At first, I fought the lustful thoughts. I didn't know anything about who this impossibly beautiful person really was. He could be a rich jerk or a delinquent. Maybe he liked pulling wings off flies. Hell, he might even be gay. School hadn't started yet, so he could have been a West Coast college student home for vacation. Or married.

Throughout the rest of the day, my mind added to the list of reasons why I should stop thinking about this vision of hotness that I had stumbled upon. By the next morning, I was thoroughly convinced he was a transvestite ex-con who kicked puppies and hated 5'4" brown-eyed brunette females, specifically. I knew not to waste my time on a law-breaker with whom I didn't stand a chance.

That is why I did NOT saddle up Rose and return to my new secret ogling spot right off the trail.

Except that I did.

And thus began my early morning excursions past the Cullen property just so I could salivate over Edward as he mucked out the tiny two-stall barn, exercised his gorgeous liver chestnut gelding, or groomed an adorable black pony. I had never seen anyone ride the pony, but then again, I tried not to make it _too_ obvious that I was spying on him and his family.

Sadly, my clandestine surveillance had to come to an end. After the humiliating stunt my in-heat mare had pulled during the horse show, I would not be going out for a hack on the trails that passed his house any time soon. It was bad enough that I had to sit beside Edward in Calculus during school. There was no way I dared tempt the Fates by coming any closer to him than necessary. I knew those three evil harpies were ready and waiting for their chance to strike again.

Turned out their opportunity arose much more quickly than I expected.

After returning from the barn and taking a shower, I threw on a pair of shorts and an oversized T-shirt. A few quick strokes with the hairbrush, and I was ready for school.

"Pickle Pea, if you don't come shopping with me then I'll buy clothes without out your input. Are you sure you want that?" Renee set a plate of pancakes in front of me.

"Mom! Can you please stop calling me that? I hate it!"

"Fine, PP," she laughed. "Shopping. Clothes. This weekend."

"Ugh! Okay, but only if you promise never to use 'PP' as a nickname again. That's even worse than the other one."

I could see the smug smile on her face, even though her back was turned.

"I know, dear."

When I finished sulking through breakfast, I brushed my teeth and grabbed my backpack. Just as I was about to step through the front door, Renee slipped her arms around my waist and cinched on a belt made of medium-sized silver chain links.

"At least you don't look like a complete slob now," she commented approvingly.

"Whatever." I rolled my eyes and dashed toward the bus that was pulling up in front of the driveway.

I hated riding the bus with the underclassmen, but until I saved up more money, I had no other way to get to school. Charlie and Renee said they would contribute toward a car purchase if I made the honor roll for the first marking period, but I had to come up with half of the amount on my own. It was part of that 'learning responsibility' lesson they were trying to teach, but I thought they were just being cheap.

The ride to school seemed longer each day, but my iPhone helped make the time somewhat endurable. I could only listen to music because I would get carsick if I read or played games. My song choices covered a wide variety of genres, but other than a few of the more pop-style songs, I stayed far away from country – which, of course, is what blared over the bus's speakers for the entire 45-minute trip. No offense intended to any fans; I just don't relate to a lot of the subject matter.

When we made the final turn toward Smithsburg High School, I stared wistfully at the senior parking lot directly in front of the school's entrance. If my hours stayed consistent at the small diner where I worked, I should have enough for my own car by Christmas. Only a few months away…

My thoughts drifted off when I saw Edward pulling his metallic grey Volvo V60 T6 into an empty spot. I scoffed to myself. I'd be thrilled to have a first car that cost 1/10 of what his did. Bet he didn't have to wait tables for it, either.

Staring hungrily, I watched as he stepped out of the vehicle and gathered his belongings. Edward wore one of his typical school outfits: khaki shorts, a golf shirt, and boat shoes. He looked as if he was about to enter a country club; all he needed was the sweater tied around his neck.

I almost didn't recognize him on the first day of school. I had been so used to seeing him in ragged jeans and old tees with hay stuck in his unruly hair. At home in his backyard, he moved with the casual grace of someone completely comfortable in his own body. But on school grounds, every action was restrained, calculated, and oh-so-proper. In the class we shared, he focused the entire period on the subject matter, and his gaze never strayed from the front of the class or his work. Edward wasn't a teacher's pet, though. He didn't volunteer answers or join in class discussion, and when called upon, he spoke hesitantly in a quiet voice. His answers were always correct, though.

And yesterday, I discovered a whole new side of Edward. I'm not sure why his presence at the horse show surprised me so much. Maybe it was because I was wrapped up in my own drama. I didn't feel ready to enter a show after only a handful of weeks of riding under my belt, but arguing with Renee was a lost cause. She signed me up for three classes, two of which were for novice riders. Rose and I only had to walk and jog in both directions, so we survived, even though we got fourth place each time – out of four riders.

The last class was an open walk/jog class, meaning horses and riders of any age and experience could enter. When I saw the high number of entries, I refused to go into the arena. Renee paid me no heed, slapped Rose on the rear end, and then followed us in on one of her own horses.

That's when I realized Edward was not only present on the show grounds, but he also had signed up for this particular class. I didn't even recognize him at first; it was the sight of his horse (who I previously had heard called Emmett) that clued me in. Wearing a black Stetson, Wranglers, a black show shirt with white piping, and a sexy smirk, Edward looked like he just walked off the set of _Bonanza_…or a cowboy porno.

I exhaled a dreamy sigh as I remembered how good he looked. Hell, he was just as hot now in his _Ralph Lauren Polo_ ensemble. I dallied in exiting the bus so I could watch his cute little buns as they ascended the stairs to the school entrance.

Our lockers were in the same hall, and I followed at a distance like the creepy stalker I was. With students clogging the corridors, I lost sight of him quite a few times. Then an opening appeared, and I hurried through the horde to catch up to the object of my desire.

I had just spied him ahead when a tall body to my immediate left stopped suddenly to talk to someone. Slamming my shoulder into the boy's back, I tripped and threw my arms around him to steady myself.

"Sorry!" I muttered as I prepared to bolt away from the scene of the crime. I took a hasty step away only to be pulled back into him.

"What the hell?" a deep voice boomed.

A boy I recognized as Tyler Crowley swung around to see what had crashed into him. As he turned, I was flung along behind as if somehow attached.

Looking down to my waist, I was horrified to discover that I _was_ attached to him. One of the links from my belt had gotten caught in his mesh sports jersey, and my front was now plastered to his back. For several mortifying seconds, Tyler spun in a circle, and I was forced to run around him lest I get pulled off my feet.

"Stop! I'm stuck on you! Stop moving!"

Our frenetic dance, coupled with my shouting, drew the attention of everyone within a twenty-foot radius. By the time I could disentangle myself from his shirt, a large crowd had gathered to laugh at my misfortune.

Damn those Fates bitches.

"Girl, if you wanted to feel me up, all you had to do was ask," Tyler leered while straightening out his clothes.

"S-sorry…I'm sorry!" I managed as I rushed away from the blur of smirking faces behind me. Completely red from embarrassment, I headed for the nearest staircase, and out of the corner my eye, I saw Edward watching me. I couldn't tell what sort of expression he wore – whether he was laughing with everyone else or not – but it didn't matter. As soon I got home, I intended to buy a one way ticket to Siberia or the Gobi Desert or some other place where I could live the rest of life in blissful solitude.

Anywhere but here.

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**I've been trying (and failing) to keep up with review responses, but please know that I read and appreciate each one! **

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**I'm an alumna of Smithsburg High, and while all characters and situations are fictional, I drew on some of my experiences there. Thankfully, none were as embarrassing as poor Bella's!**

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**My super-cool hubby had become my official bannermaker. Ah, the things the poor man puts up with! You can check out this story's new banner from the link on my profile page. I've also put a close approximation of Emmett and Rose.**


	3. Chapter 3

Incredibly, the morning was nowhere near as bad as I feared. Perhaps it was because most of my classes were AP and everyone was focused on the material. Or maybe the story of my humiliation hadn't spread far yet. Whatever the reason, I was relieved when I made it to lunch relatively unscathed.

I grabbed my typical lunch of a hot pretzel and soda (I never ate much for lunch) and made my way to the table I'd been sitting at since school began four weeks ago. Angela Webber, Erica Yorkie, and Nate Garner were already there and had started eating. None of us were close friends, but we did share an important thing in common – we didn't play a sport. Even though it was a relatively small school, athletes were revered among the student body, and teams usually sat together whenever possible.

The first day of school, I ended up at my current table by shadowing Erica after our World History class. We were in AP Biology together, as well, and I could tell immediately that she was a shy, thoughtful girl. To me, that meant she was 'safe,' and so I felt comfortable enough in asking to sit with her at lunch.

I also had a few classes with Angela and Nate, and they both were academically-minded. Nate was fairly laid-back, but Angela defined the stereotypical Ivy-bound overachiever – nothing but As on her report card, President of the Student Government Association, founder of a local volunteer organization, etcetera . Truthfully, she scared me a bit with her go-get-'em attitude.

Despite not being bosom buds, the four of us sitting together was pleasant enough. Sometimes we chatted, but most often schoolwork or pleasure reading while we ate was our activity of choice. I'd bet that most students considered us nerds, but no one actually called us that to our faces, nor were we the brunt of cruel pranks.

"Hey guys," I said, sitting down at the table. Nate didn't look up from the science fiction book glued to his face, but Angela chirped out a bright hello. Erica only smiled since I had just walked from class with her.

"So, Bella, have you given any more thought to joining SGA? We could really use some new members!"

Ah, so that was the reason for Angela's cheery greeting.

"I don't know, Angela. I usually work after school, and that's when most of the committee meetings are."

"Well, what if you only participate in one or two committees the entire year? That'd be a total of a few hours spread out over months, and think of how good it would look on a college application."

"I suppose, but-"

"As a new student, you could use this as an opportunity to get to know your fellow schoolmates – especially the underclassmen! Come on, Bella, I really need your help!"

"I guess…" I wondered if she was planning career in law. Or maybe in selling used cars.

Angela beamed triumphantly. "I knew I could count on you! Jessica's going to be so thrilled that she has more help for Homecoming!"

"Wait, what?"

"Jessica's the Homecoming Dance Committee chairperson. We're in serious need of more people in the group, but I know you're going to be a huge help."

"I don't think that I-"

"It's just a couple hours getting the gym ready that day. Jessica's going to be so busy since all the Homecoming court members have to be in the parade and at the game."

My brow furrowed in confusion. "I didn't realize nominations had started already. How do you know she'll be on the court?"

"Please," she scoffed. "Jessica's a shoo-in. In fact, it's almost a given that either she or Tanya will be Queen."

"Oh."

"With marching band, I have to be at the parade and game, too. Erica will be decorating with you, and it's not like you'll be involved in any of the other events."

Well, damn. I knew I didn't stand a chance at even being nominated, but she didn't have to rub it in.

"Yeah, sure. Whatever," I muttered.

"We'll have fun," Erica said softly. "I've helped since I was a freshman, and it can be a good time."

"Hmm," I replied noncommittally. I just spotted a flash a reddish-brown hair, and my attention was wandering.

Out of the corner of my eye, I watched Edward take his bagged lunch to his usual table. He sat with a group of baseball team members, and my guess was that he did so because of Jasper Whitlock. The good-looking blond was captain of the team, and he seemed to be the only person Edward hung out with at school.

My affinity for spying on Edward extended to school grounds, so I often glanced over to the baseball table during the 45-minute lunch periods. I rarely noticed him talking to any other guys at the table, but he didn't seem like an outsider, either. He appeared to follow whatever conversation occurred at the table, and sometimes beautiful grins would spread over his face. I lived for those moments – it was like a sudden beam of light breaking through the dark cloudiness of my school day.

Edward wasn't smiling at the moment, however. He ripped open his sandwich with more force than necessary, then set it on the table and sighed. Jasper leaned in to say something, but Edward shook his head, the locks of his unruly hair falling over emerald green eyes. I bit my lip and tried not to whimper.

"…asked you yet, Bella?"

My gaze darted around the table as I tried to figure out who was talking to me. Nate was still reading, and Erica pulled an apple out of her bag. Angela stared at me with wide eyes.

"I'm sorry, what were you saying?" I asked.

"I wondered if anyone had asked you to Homecoming yet," Angela repeated. "I know it's still three weeks away, but Erica's got a date already."

I turned to the black-haired girl in surprise. "Really? Who is it?"

Erica blushed lightly and focused on the fruit in her hands. "Um, Jeff asked me this morning."

"Jeffrey Thomas? The cute basketball player Jeff?"

Erica nodded in response to my question.

"That's great! Are you guys going out now?"

Her blush deepened. "For the last two weeks, he's been coming over to my house for help with our Trig homework. We're not officially a couple, but he's started to hold my hand sometimes."

The impulsive hug I gave her startled us both. She smiled as I sat back in my seat.

"Thanks, Bella."

"So?" Angela tried again. "Any leads on a date?"

I shook my head. "Dances aren't really my thing."

"Well, you've still got plenty of time to find one if you change your mind," she shrugged.

Highly unlikely.

So far, I'd barely had a full conversation with any of the guys here. I couldn't imagine one of them asking me to go, and I sure as hell wouldn't put myself out there. Of course, if one lean, bronze-haired hottie showed interest in me, the risk might be worth it. I could just imagine him in an untucked collared shirt and loose tie, opening the passenger door to his car, holding my hand as he helped me in…

"What about you, Angela?" Erica inquired.

The tall girl pushed some dark brown hair out of her face and gave a coy smile. "Currently, I don't have a date, but I've got someone in mind." She laughed at Erica's raised eyebrow. "And before you ask, I'm not saying a word."

I shot another quick glance over to Edward's table. Most of the boys were joking loudly with each other, and Edward sat listening with an adorable half-smile on his face. I guess he had gotten over whatever previously ailed him. I willed away a longing sigh and glanced at the clock. Lunch was almost over, and that meant Calculus was next. Calculus class – the bittersweet torture chamber in which I sat inches away from my massive crush for fifty excruciatingly long minutes. I couldn't contain this sigh as I gathered my backpack.

It was time.

^-^ AHOADC ^-^

_Don't fidget. Don't glance to the left. Don't sigh. Actually, don't breathe at all._

I'm sure Mr. Varner was imparting very important calculus wisdom, but all I heard was my incessant inner monologue. I hunched over my spiral notebook and mindlessly copied the notes on the board, even though nearly all my senses were tuned to the person beside me.

God, he smelled so good. It was a simple scent—just soap and laundry detergent and a hint of…perfection? I wanted to shove my face in his chest and huff him like glue.

If it wasn't bad enough he could affect me through sight and smell, there was his touch. Okay, he never _touch_ touched me, but though I tried to shrink myself into as small of a space as possible, the close seating arrangement at the rectangular table made it inevitable that one or more of our body parts occasionally brushed against one another. They weren't the particular areas I wished–usually it was an elbow or knee—but one glorious day his arm grazed ever so lightly against the side of my breast. I think I played it fairly cool, for me at least, but my insides were doing a happy crazy dance.

And one couldn't forget his voice. When he answered a question for Mr. Varner, he used this soft, low, calm tone that flowed smooth like molten chocolate. I could totally see him using that soothing lilt to talk suicidal people off ledges or help put crying infants to sleep. I smiled to myself at the thought of him holding a little baby. I bet he'd snuggle that kid in his strong, but gentle arms, lean his head in close, and whisper-

"3_x_ minus seven."

No, that'd be silly. Why would he say that to a child?

"Ms. Swan? Your answer, please."

I snapped out of my reverie to see Mr. Varner and my classmates staring expectantly at me. Damn, I really needed to stop taking mental vacations to Edwardland.

"Um, 3x minus seven?" I squeaked.

The aged, gaunt math teacher frowned at me but nodded reluctantly. "Correct. Mr. Garner, please give us your answer to number five."

I exhaled in relief and angled slightly toward Edward. "Thanks for the save," I whispered.

His head dipped minutely in acknowledgement, but he never took his eyes off Mr. Varner.

Disappointed, I faced the front again and rolled my eyes at my idiocy. It's not like he'd want to strike up a conversation with me even if we weren't in the middle of a difficult math class being conducted in a very small conference room. I tried to console myself with the fact that he was nice enough to bail me out of an embarrassing situation.

Unfortunately, that thought didn't raise my spirits much, and when I walked out of class toward sixth period Gym class, my happiness level barely registered on the meter. What could be better for a crappy day than the subject I dreaded the most?

If you hadn't picked up on my sarcasm, the truth was simple, really: I. Hated. Gym. Not only did I lack the necessary athletic prowess to play sports, I also shared the period with four classmates who, while not outright mean, often made me feel inferior.

Tanya Denali and Alexa Cooper (along with Jessica Stanley) were best friends, and the three could be the closest thing SHS had to a reigning popular girl clique. Tanya and Jessica oozed confidence and glamor. They both were gorgeous and the target of constant lustful staring from the majority of the male student population. Alexa was pretty, though nowhere near the same league as her two friends. Of the group, she tended to act the most snotty, and I guessed it was because she felt the most insecure.

Tanya the volleyball player and Alexa the cheerleader had Gym with me, and beside those two, I usually came out looking like a young Bambi on ice. To make matters worse, Mike Newton—Jessica's longtime boyfriend and SHS starting quarterback—and a certain tall running back named Tyler Crowley were also in the class. He was Alexa's current boyfriend, and the four of them were good friends.

Like I said, they didn't go out of their way to put me down, but when I would trip over my feet during a basketball game or completely miss the soccer ball while attempting to kick it, I'd hear titters and whispers from their direction. Sometimes, Tanya actually seemed like she was trying to make me feel better, but when the accompaniment to her peppy words was muted laughing, I couldn't be anything other than humiliated.

Today appeared to be no different than any other. The basketball segment of the Gym curriculum was finishing up, so Coach Clapp had us playing a full court game for the whole period. On one hand, I took comfort in the fact that I'd be able to sit out for a good portion of the game. However, when I did have to sub in, every person's eyes were on me anytime I handled the ball.

It didn't take more than 30 seconds of me being on court before I made a fool of myself. I tried to stay out of the action, but when the ball got loose and rolled toward me, I had to pick it up. Desperate to rid myself of the attention-gathering sphere, I noticed that Tanya (who was on my team) was relatively open. I took one step and hurled the ball toward her with as much force as I could muster, but sadly, my attempt was short by about ten feet. The ball fell pathetically in front of me and then bounced out of bounds.

Cue hushed laughs and whispers.

"What's the matter, Bella?" Tyler called out from the other side of the court. "Was the ball _stuck_ on you?"

If I had been cool and cocky, I would have laughed it off and come back with a jab of my own. Instead, my face flamed as I ducked my head to my chin and tried to disappear into the floor. I reminded myself there was only nine more minutes until my rotation was over. During that time, I tried to keep as far away from the basketball as possible.

I made it to my final sixty seconds without further incident, but then my short run of luck ended. As I eyed the clock one last time, Mike shouted my name in preparation for a pass. I turned toward the direction of his voice just in time to see a brown blur heading straight for my face. There was a loud thud as the ball slammed into my nose and knocked me to the ground.

I'm not gonna lie. It hurt like a bitch, and I used every ounce of willpower I had not to roll around on the court and wail like a baby at the top of my lungs.

"Bella, here, quick!" The gravelly voice of Coach Clapp sounded in my ear as he stuffed what felt like a rag into my hand. With blurred vision due to my streaming tears, I had no idea what I was to do quickly with the cloth, but Alexa's loud, shrill announcement clued me in.

"Oh, that is _so_ gross! She's bleeding all down the front of her shirt!"

Stuffing the cloth under my nose, I swept the other arm across my eyes to wipe away the tears. The downside of regaining my sight was that I could witness the mixed expressions of shock, disgust, and excitement on the faces of the other students. There were two or three pitying looks, but I wasn't keen on those, either.

"Mike, you threw the ball, so you're going to walk Bella to the nurse," Coach Clapp directed.

Before Mike could make the groan I knew was coming, I vigorously waved my hand in the air. "I'm fine, Coach," I protested. "The nurses' station is right around the corner. I can go myself."

The coach dubiously considered my request, but when he noticed the hopeful look on Mike's face, he capitulated.

"Okay, Bella. Here's a pass." He tore off a slip of paper from a booklet and handed it to me.

Given my feelings toward the gymnasium, I think it's fair to say I got out of there like a bat out of hell. Taking short but hurried strides, I sped down the hall in an effort to make it to the safety of the nurses' station without too many people viewing my plight. As I walked, I pulled the cloth away from my nose and happily discovered the flow nearly had stopped.

I returned it to my nostrils, and one edge of the rag tickled the skin above my lip. I think I must have inhaled some lint at the same time because I felt a powerful sneeze build up. I stopped a bit short of the hallway corner in preparation, and that's when it happened.

Just as I brought my other hand up to help contain the sneeze, someone turned the corner and walked right into my arm. I tried to curtail the forceful burst, but that only made the situation worse. My eyes had watered again from the sneeze, and when I my vision cleared, I looked up to discover a terrible sight.

Edward Cullen stood in front of me with a shocked expression on his face and a light spatter of red dots on his shirt. For a long moment, I could only gape at him in disbelief.

_What was it with bodily fluids around this guy? First Rose, now me!_

My wits came crashing back. "Oh my god, I am so sorry!" I almost reached out my cloth to dab at the red but then realized it was in much worse condition. Desperate to remedy the situation any way I could, I grabbed the end of my own shirt and began scrubbing it over the spots.

"Mike hit me with a basketball in gym, and my nose started bleeding! But then I had to sneeze, and you came around the corner just as I started. I am so so sorry, and I promise to pay for cleaning or buy you a new shirt!" I was beginning to ramble, and I knew sobfest was going to occur any minute.

I gave the poor startled boy's shirt one last swipe and took a step back. "Please, just let me-"

"Bella, I-" Edward tried, but I couldn't bear to hear the anger surely to come.

I leapt around him and began barreling down the hall. "Just let me know how much I owe you!" I cried over my shoulder as I scurried away.

Renee picked me up from school early. I may have played up my pain a bit to skip the last period of the day, but there was no way I could handle going to class. Even though I loved Creative Writing, my frazzled nerves weren't up to being around others right now, and it didn't help that Alexa was in the same class.

I supposed I was fortunate that Renee had a flexible 'work' schedule. She gave lessons at a small barn in the nearby town of Boonsboro and had a few clients whose horses she trained.

While she had always enjoyed shopping and having nice things, her desire for material possessions decreased greatly after the death of her second husband, Phil Dwyer. He passed away two years ago after a tragic car accident and had left everything to Renee, including a large life insurance payout. But the money was a sad substitute for the man she loved, and after months of depression, she began searching for a way to find happiness again.

She sold their spacious house in Florida and randomly picked the little town of Smithsburg to begin a new life. Horses were my mom's lifelong passion, and working with them brought a spark back into her eyes. She embraced her roots as a rancher's daughter, purchased some land, and found a sense of inner peace working with the large, beautiful animals - a calm that she never before had experienced.

Now, she and Charlie hoped that I would discover it, too.

I will admit that sitting under a tree when I got home and listening to the rhythmic sounds of mouths tearing grass and tails swishing—punctuated by the occasional snort—soothed my anxiety and helped distance me from the mortifying events of the day. Renee set me up with a bag of ice for my nose and brownies for my sweet tooth, then wisely left me to recover in solitude. Before long, the buzzing of the late summer afternoon lulled me to sleep.

A slamming of a car door woke me from my restful nap, and I looked up to see a leggy redhead in a short, tight dress exit a shiny Ford Mustang. My eyes widened when the older woman was followed out by one beautiful blonde teen named Tanya Denali. What was she doing here?

I hung back as the older woman knocked on the house's front door. Renee opened it and promptly gave both of them a hug. When they all went inside, I debated on whether or not to hide in the field with the horses, but curiosity won out.

"There she is!" Renee exclaimed when I joined them in the den. "This is Beverly Denali, and I'm sure you know her daughter Tanya."

"Hi," I muttered and waved my hand in the air.

"Bella, I didn't know Renee was your mom!" Tanya cried with an excited grin. "How wonderful!"

"Bev and Tanya ride, too," my mom explained. "Tanya's going to show at Congress in a few weeks, and Bev wants me to come along and help out."

"Where?" I asked, feeling slightly foolish.

"The American Quarter Horse Congress, dear," Bev replied with breezy laugh. "It's the largest breed show in the world—quite a big deal to compete there."

"Oh, well, good luck with that, Tanya." I tried to give my best genuine smile, but it probably looked more like I was constipated.

"Bella, why don't you and Tanya chat in your room for a bit while I catch up with Bev."

Wow, this day just kept on giving.

"Sure. You can follow me if you want, Tanya."

"I'd love to!" she bubbled, close on my heels.

I hadn't done anything to my room since moving here, and Renee had been using it as storage space before she cleared it out and put in some inexpensive bedroom furniture. I cringed when I opened the door and Tanya inhaled quickly.

"Oh my, Bella! What's going on with your room?" she fretted.

"Um, I haven't gotten around to decorating yet, but it really doesn't bother me the way it is."

She tossed her strawberry blond curls over her shoulder and sighed. "Bella, you're a—what?—17- or 18-year-old female! You can't let your _personal_ space look like this! No wonder you dress the way you do! How can you wake up in the morning and feel beautiful when this is what you see?"

"Uh…" I think Tanya was asking me a rhetorical question, but she tapped her foot as if waiting for an answer. "I can't?"

She nodded, but then I registered the rest of her earlier comment. "Wait, what did you mean by 'no wonder you dress the way you do'?"

She fingered the hem of the ratty T-shirt I had changed into after taking off my blood-stained one.

"I wouldn't even muck out stalls in this thing! Bella, I think it's clear you are in dire need of my help." Her eyes lit up, and she bounced energetically on her toes. "I'm going to call Jess and Lexi! Bella Swan's getting a makeover!"

"Uh, I don't know…I'm really busy and…"

It was clear Tanya would not be deterred. She folded her arms and stared at me. "When's your next free night?"

Damn. I had a feeling that resistance was futile. And although being subjected to a makeover at the hands Tanya and her crew would probably be a miserable experience for me, it could be just the thing I needed to boost my confidence and put an end to my free comedy show at school. Maybe then Edward would notice me in a _good_ way for once…

"I don't work on Thursday," I replied quickly.

"Yay! I'll call my girls and set things up. Jess and I have volleyball practice until four, so why don't you come over at four-thirty and stay for dinner?"

I tried to keep my expression pleasant and not roll my eyes even though Tanya had begun jumping up and down and clapping her hands. Like, oh em gee, that's totes cray-cray!

Blech.

"That sounds great, Tanya. Thanks."

"I should go check on Bev, but first let me take a look at what clothes and makeup you've got."

"Here's my closet," I pointed to the door. "As for makeup, all I have is some concealer and lip gloss."

Tanya froze mid-step with her crystal blue eyes nearly popping out of her head. "That's it?" she screeched.

"Um…yes?"

"Bella," she sighed heavily and shook her head, "we've got our work cut out for us."

* * *

**I would LOVE to hear any embarrassing high school stories you have! I'd also like to incorporate some into this story, so please post away! (I'll credit that person if I use it)**


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